


oh but you're an explosion

by verityfaeir (gins4n)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU in which lily refused to let her child's wellbeing depend on others, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/F, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, and kept fighting in the war, badass lily, became her own Secret Keeper, the lily with McGonagall and the one with James are two different Lilys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:19:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gins4n/pseuds/verityfaeir
Summary: Going back to high school always goes its wildly unexpected ways; even more so when you time your visit during your actual school years. In the mist of 1. your teenage self being her usual self-righteous ass, 2. the best friend you’re technically now estranged with getting a reality check and 3. your future husband naming you the year's hot teacher, will you be able to destroy your local Dark Lord? But most importantly, will you be able to get under your old forbidden teacher crush’s robes?





	oh but you're an explosion

Hogwarts stood tall and imposing, the raging storm enhancing its magnificence to the eyes of the first year students now getting soaked on the little boats that accompanied them to the place they'd call home for the next seven years. Professor Minerva McGonagall paced in between its walls as she thought about how to dry the students as fast as possible so as to start the Sorting as soon as possible. However, her nerves were so on edge that she wasn’t able to concentrate on her self-assigned task as well as she would have liked, which frustrated her to no end.

She wished she could accuse the usual suspects as the cause of her anxiousness, but, however much the Gryffindor’s rascals’ smug (or in Lupin’s case, guilty) expressions did put her on edge, or thoughts of the ongoing war always succeeded in dampening her mood, she knew that wasn’t the case.

The kids entered the castle led by Hagrid and his kind smile, but even their awed gasps and stupor filled eyes didn’t have their usual cheering effect on the Transfiguration master. Nevertheless, their dripping robes did manage to snap her out of her thoughts and into action, as she dried them up with a handy little charm (that left most of their robes crumpled though, it might not have been the best choice after all) and led them through the usual speech without anyone noticing her bad mood.

Like every other 1st of September, the air buzzed with excitement and inexperienced, still young magic, as the students who already sat at their tables waited with equal trepidation the new witches and wizards that would join their House today and the great feast that was to follow the Sorting.

Minerva’s eyes wondered discreetly over the young students and to the teacher’s table as she waited in between calling names out of the list, locking on one particular individual that had been the protagonist of the Professor’s puzzlement and thoughts since the first time she had caught sight for the first time. The newest of a long series of teachers of Defence Against the Dark Arts sat in her place at the far end of the table, posture and attire far too casual for an occasion as important as her first official day as a member of Hogwarts’s staff to McGonagall’s mind, a knowing and somewhat feral half-smile resting playfully on her lips. Her appearance was startling, what with her very short hair (rare on wizards and mostly unheard of on witches) snowy in colour despite her young age and the burn scar that danced like fire itself starting from her left temple down to the soft cheekbone and reaching her chin, teasing and brushing red lips on its way. The witch was missing the pinkie and ring finger of her right hand, which, what with being left-handed, she claimed nonchalantly not to miss when questioned, as well as part of the left ear and the left eye, on which she wore a plain black eyepatch, both probably lost during the same incident that left her face scarred.

It wasn’t the woman’s appearance, however, that unsettled McGonagall’s mind, despite her thinking that her colleague's wardrobe should be more appropriate of her workplace. It was the witch’s demeanour, that, while changing according to the situation, never lost an almost predatory edge, and the way the bemused look in her lone green eye reminded Minerva of the severe look she herself had worn as a young widow who hadn’t been able to bear her late husband’s child: dark and desperate, and that leaves marks that can never leave even when the wounds stop bleeding.

In its mindless wondering of the Great Hall, the troubling woman’s gaze met Minerva's own. The sweet smile Professor Candice Harris sent her way was one of the less candid sights the Trasfiguration master had seen in her life and the irony of it wasn’t lost on her. To her displeasure, despite not feeling cowered by her colleague, she needed to divert her eyes first as to call the next student to be sorted, but once she could return to her observing, she found the other woman’s stare still on her.

McGonagall watched as the sugar smile on Harris’s face turned mischievous as she mouthed _Ravenclaw_. Mere moments later, the Sorting Hat shouted that same word, so deciding the new student’s path in Hogwarts. The Deputy Headmistress didn’t let her surprise colour her expression as she moved her gaze away from the other's infuriatingly smug smile so as to state yet another name.

The Professor of Defence mouthed _Gryffindor_ this time and sure enough the Hat sent the child to that one House without a moment of hesitation.

And thus, the Sorting continued and reached its end with Harris predicting each of the remaining first years’ placement and Minerva having to work harder and harder to contain her growing irritation and unease.

When she finally could sit at her usual place at Albus’s right at the Professors' table, McGonagall found that she was having way more trouble than usual at paying attention to her mentor’s rather whimsical speech and, after that, on the delicious dishes the Hogwarts house elves had provided. In the end, she couldn’t stop herself from looking past the Headmaster and to Candice that, despite being now in a conversation with the Muggle Studies Professor, reciprocated her gaze. After a few moments, the woman blinked at her and turned her attention back to her companion’s passionate speech, leaving Minerva wondering about whether that had been a wink or not, but knowing that either way it had been a taut, while Dumbledore watched her in contemplative silence.

 

 

Hidden behind the identity of Candice Harris, Lily Potter nee Evans watched her old Professor fretting about her wannabe seer stunt. It felt like divine retribution, to have the woman puzzled about what she said -or, well, didn’t say- after all the time Candice herself had spent pouring her brain dry over Transfiguration books during her schoolgirl days.

The conversation with the Muggle Studies Professor had turned into an happy monologue on the woman's part since she finally found in Candice someone who actually knew muggle music. Harris was content with nodding at random intervals with the excited voice working as good background noise for her thoughts.

She was reaching the end of her plan: just one Horcrux missing from her collection of destroyed priceless artefacts, and a death duel she had already won in her own time against her favourite Voldytart. This time the blood maniac would be in for one nasty surprise when he wouldn’t be able to run from death like the little cockroach he was, since Candice was killing all the souls fragments he'd disseminated around the world.

Candice had been back in the past for a few years now, to confirm her info on Horcruxes, which had been, let’s say, outdated of almost twenty years, and think up an attack plan that wouldn’t get her killed before success. The dragon at Gringotts had been a bit of a close call, but had worked out way better than expected in the end, as the scar on her face was now all the camouflage she needed not to look too much like her younger self.

She had used her time in search of Tom's bits of soul to build herself a new identity through which enter Hogwarts, where she knew was Ravenclaw’s Diadem. Going for Defence Against the Dark Arts had been the obvious choice, since the Professor basically changed once a year, and while it wasn’t one of Candice's favourite, she sure knew more about it than most after all the time she had spent fighting the most recent Dark Lord.

Getting the position, too, had been quite easy, with her applying for the job explaining Dumbledore exactly what she thought Voldemort had done to avoid permanent demise and with Slughorn confirming her thesis with little pointed probing. Candice knew that the unorthodox methods of getting what she wanted hadn’t bought her many points in the Headmaster’s mind; rather, the man had probably accepted her in his staff to keep an eye on her and be sure that she didn’t interfere with his agents’ work in confirming her thesis and later hunting the Horcruxes down.

Good luck with that, she got there first.

Her colleague was still talking passionately when Professor McGonagall gazed her way again, looking like she was giving up a fight. They stared at each other for a few moments, and Candice remembered being cowed by those dark eyes when she was a girl, remembered striving for the confidence they always held even when she thought it was beyond her reach. Now, she looked into those eyes as an equal and she found that she liked them a lot more this way.

Candice winked and so broke the staring contest with other woman, finally getting herself involved into her conversation and knowing that, while she sang ABBA’s praise, Minerva McGonagall would still be wondering whether that had been a wink or a blink.

 

 

The moment the feast finally started, so did the chatting, as the students happily kept talking about their summer adventures with their friends. However, since the “curse” on the DADA teaching post started, that also became the moment of first impressions on the year's new Professor.

James had a lot of those, apparently, even more than the other years. “She looks so tough!” was exclaiming the boy smiling. “Like someone who can hold her own in a real fight. Unlike last year's idiot!”.

“Should someone that knows how to hold their own in a fight have that kind of wounds?” retorted Sirius sceptically. In five years at Hogwarts, the young pureblood hadn’t had even one DADA Professor who would be able to brave half of the Dark relics he knew were in the Black's Ancestral House, so he had a hard time thinking this one could be any better. “And anyway,” he continued, “you're only saying that because you think she's hot.”

“Of course I do,” declared James under Remus's disapproving gaze. “But not as hot as Evans!” he said, talking louder. “Who should totally go on a date to Hogsmeade with me, by the way.”

Evans heard the would be compliment, but obviously didn’t appreciate it, as she made a big show of ignoring him looking even colder than usual and James’s shoulders slumped with it.

“I don’t think she’s over being saddled with you for Headstudent duties, Jam” said Peter with faux empathy.

“Don’t call me that!” whined James. They all laughed and went back to eating.

**Author's Note:**

> About Lily: in canon she could perform wandless magic since she was a child, and by that I mean on prupouse, according to Snape's memories. The only other person that canonically could in the books was Tom Riddle, which in my opinion means she must have be just as powerful, but with less petty murdering. Also, she basically is the reason Harry didn't die while Voldemort would have if it wasn't for the Horcruxes, which means Lily could totally have killed him if she had had the chance.  
> In this fic, she had, and a lot changed.


End file.
